


Bone Deep

by kagehiro



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Blood and Violence, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:28:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29236815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kagehiro/pseuds/kagehiro
Summary: Being murdered by the one person you loved hurts much more than what anyone can understand.Moving forward is your only option, but will your sanity withhold?
Relationships: Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Belphegor/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 118





	1. The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first ever piece on here and something I've been wanting to write. The way the story light-heartedly skipped over any trauma the OC could have forgone doesn't sit right with me, so I wanted to add my own insight. Also this story will be heavily Belphegor x reader. There will definitely be more than one chapter, but while I upload to this story I will be creating more! I hope you all enjoy!

You awoke to pain. Soreness in all your ligaments and tendons in your body. Exhaustion threatened to lull you despite just barely waking, and all you can do is stare morosely at the ceiling of your room. The glimmering of the lights hanging from the tree within the limited space of your expanse pulled you from the haze threatening to put you back to sleep, making you groan with defeat before sitting up.

Multiple joints decided to crack at that very instant, and though it should’ve felt like a sense of release, it caused you to feel more tense. The cracks, they sounded much like the sound of your neck breaking underneath Belphegor’s tail.

Bile threatened to crawl up your throat at the memory, and quickly covering your mouth with a hand didn’t do much for the nausea. Tears pricked at the sides of your eyes, desperate to spill over. That’s right.

You died yesterday, and by the very hands of the one person you came to love and grow fond of:

Belphegor.

He was your dirty little secret. The one you turned to when life in the house was getting a little too rowdy. The one you risked your life to help, accumulating all these pacts for. The demon who stole sweet kisses from you from between the cold bars keeping him locked up. You even went against Lucifer’s wrath for him.

The pain of betrayal hurt more than your death.

This pain was bone deep.

A polite rap at the door knocked all thoughts from your mind, causing you to shoot to your feet and trudge over at a turtle’s pace. Barely cracking it open, it was evident that the first born was there to remind you to wake up and be down for breakfast. After all, you’re the precious exchange student here to make Lord Diavolo’s dream a reality. But instead you were greeted with silence. It forced you to look up, only to have deep obsidian stare right back. Before it would’ve shook you to the core with fear or unease, but not anymore. Was that a hint of pity in his eyes? You couldn’t completely tell.

“Y/n, take the day off. I’ve already notified Lord Diavolo and your professors of your absence today. I’ll bring all your makeup work back to you after the evening meeting. Depending on how you feel, you can resume class as usual starting tomorrow. But, I can allow the rest of the week off as well. After everything that happened yesterday...” His voice came to a whisper, his brows furrowing and eyes crinkling in what looked like a pained expression. Was that guise solely for you? Was the prideful first born bothered by a measly human’s death? Your fogged mind couldn’t grasp any more questions forming, and you gave a lazy nod to his statement.

“Thank you, Lucifer. I’ll go down to eat breakfast with everyone, but I’ll take another nap afterwards. I’m still a little... exhausted.” What a big fat lie. You were more than exhausted.

His curt nod was the only answer given as he was then off, needing to speak with Lord Diavolo about Belphegor’s slow integration back into RAD and about what had happened yesterday. Despite the “talk” the night before of your descent from Lilith and the brothers’ final closure over their younger sister’s demise, all issues were not set in stone at that moment.

You didn’t bother to shower, throwing on the nearest piece of clothing you can find to keep you warm. Protected. You took one last look on the mirror as your hand grabbed the knob of your door. A sweatshirt too large for your frame, with sweats that were at least two sizes too big with safety pins cinching the side to keep itself up on your waist. Oily hair at the roots, with matching skin that would probably make Asmodeus shriek with displeasure. Dark, sunken eyes. Eyes in which you could barely recognize anymore. It’s crazy what only a few hours of shut eye and dying can do to a person.

You looked like a fucking mess.

Exiting your room, you only hoped breakfast wouldn’t be too awkward. Not like your killer and ex-lover would be accompanying or anything.


	2. I'm Not Your Precious Lilith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will slowly start to get longer from here and much more chaotic, please be aware and prepared!

Your walk to the dining area was short lived, quiet nonetheless which helped you gather some sort of sense before you had to face the brothers. The very brothers who watched your broken and bloody body being discarded down the stairs like some unwanted toy Belphegor no longer wanted to play with. It’s kind of funny, he played you much like a toy, influencing every one of your moves. Even tugging at your heartstrings. Sadistic fuck.

The minute you stepped foot into the dining hall everyone became hushed, the once rowdy bunch no longer bold enough to make a peep. Many couldn’t even meet your eye, especially Mammon. Guilt radiated through his pact along with pain, making you shift uncomfortably in position before making your way to your usual seat.

“What’s wrong, everyone? Never seen the living dead before?” You snickered at your joke, but it didn’t gain any chuckles from your audience. Instead you were greeted with a worried expression from Satan.

“Are you trying to cope by making stupid jokes?” Shit, he was too clever. Masking your pain and discomfort with humor was all you knew how to do, and you never learned how to healthily deal with negative emotions. You gave a short shrug, your shoulders cracking with the motion. The noise made Mammon flinch. Poor boy, he was the only one to make physical contact with your dead body. He seemed the most distraught as well.

“And? Therapy is expensive. Self deprecating jokes are free. Let me heal on my own way, Doctor Satan.” You huffed out, grabbing your spoon and started picking at what looked like oatmeal in front of you. If it didn’t resemble your vomit from yesterday so closely you would’ve actually started digging in.

Your comment made Satan click his tongue in annoyance, trying hard to disregard your snarky comment. He was trying to say something before Asmodeus stood from his chair, tip-toeing his way over to the empty seat next to you before plopping down. “My dear, you look a mess. Why don’t I give you a spa day? I can wash your hair, give you a nice facial, maybe a massage?” His long, perfectly kept digits ran through your oily and knotted hair, reaching near your neck when you visibly tensed. Within a second you slapped his hand away, accidentally a little too hard for your comfort. His hand was near where Belphegor snapped your neck clean in half with his tail, your own hand wrapping around your neck in a protective manner.

“I’m sorry, Lil. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Asmodeus could only apologize after seeing your eyes swell, the glistening of your eyes breaking his heart.

Lil? Seriously? Did you fucking look like their dead sister? Did they suddenly get amnesia and forget your name? You wanted to scream with frustration, but gave dear Asmodeus the benefit of the doubt. Hopefully it’s a one time thing and, if not? There will be some issues under this roof.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to slap your hand so hard. Just an involuntary twitch.” The demon left to sit back in his seat, the table uncomfortably silent once more. The only other sound noticeable was the sixth born’s chewing, which was oddly calming to you. It wasn’t until Leviathan spoke up.

“Beel, where is Belphie?”

Your face immediately lost color, subconsciously dropping your spoon which clattered back on to the table. Mammon turned to his brother and socked him right in the arm, earning a small yelp from the third oldest as he dropped his handheld gaming console.

“Yer an idiot!” Mammon hissed out in a hushed tone. Why the hell did Leviathan have to go and ruin the already tense mood? All he did was add gasoline to an already blazing fire.

“He–”

“I’m right here.” A sleepy voice piped up before Beelzebub could even finish his statement, Belphegor descending the stairs with his pillow tucked safely under his arm. His eyes meet yours, but almost immediately snap away. Was he hiding? Was this bastard really acting coy? He seemed to have no qualms staring you right in the eye when breaking your heart and neck simultaneously yesterday.

The room was back at a hush, the twins greeting one another before Belphegor slipping into the seat next to Beelzebub.

Everything in your body was screaming for you to run. To move and get away from this man. Your heart weeped from agony, as the rest of you felt like you needed to crawl out of your skin. Such uncomfortable suffering.

“Lil, why aren’t you eating? You need to eat to gain more strength, you look exhausted.” Beelzebub mumbled in between bites of his food, already stealing extras from Leviathan’s plate without his knowledge.

“Alright, what the fuck is wrong with you all?” You couldn’t even stop yourself from saying what you just blurted out. It’s as if your body is on autopilot, trying to protect you in the only way it knows.

“...What? What’s the matter, Li–” Leviathan could barely muster the rest of his sentence out before you stood up ungraciously from your seat, causing it to topple over with a loud bang. Your hands slammed down on to the table, your lukewarm oatmeal splattering a bit on to your hands and the area around.

“Shut up. Shut the fuck up. I’m not fucking Lilith. Do I look like her to you? Did you all suddenly bump your heads and forget my name? It’s y/n! My mother and father gave me it, get it through your heads! Engrave it into your fucking minds so you’ll never make this mistake again!” You didn’t even realize you were screaming at this point, everyone staring in utter shock as you pant from overexertion. You’ve never been one to raise your voice in anger, but you just couldn’t hold back anymore. Why should you?

Turning your body, you face Belphegor. He couldn’t even look at you, his head slightly turned as his eyes steadied themselves on the table to stare into the nothingness that was there.

“And you, you pathetic fucking demon. How dare you not look at me or acknowledge me. How dare you use me, play with my emotions and throw me away once you’ve gotten what you needed. The only reason you care now is because of Lilith. Well news flash! I’m not like her, and I won’t ever be her. So stay the fuck away from me.” You raise your hands chest level and shake off the oatmeal, the access plopping every which way. To say you didn’t care would be an understatement at this point.

“No one bother me.” With that the conversation was finished, leaving the boys to digest what had just happened. You made your way back to your room, with not a single piece of food inside your system. Whatever. You died once. Maybe this time it’ll be starvation that takes you instead.

—————

Satan stared at the now silent Belphegor, the rest of his brothers oozing regret and melancholy. He sighed, feeling quite defeated himself.

“What you all did was wrong. Calling her Lil? I thought you were all better than that. Unfortunately due to their mental instability, I’ll have to relay all this back to Lucifer. And I mean everything. Including your misnaming slip ups, and especially,” Satan pointed a painted finger to Belphegor, whose grip on his pillow tightened, “What she said about you. They said you toyed with their emotions. Anyone can do simple deductions from their statement. Let me guess, you used them to get out of the attic. But along that line, their feelings got involved, and you used that to your advantage. Didn’t you?”

“Belphie, please tell me you didn’t actually do that.” His twin’s plea sounded throaty, as if he was holding back a sob.

“...I did. But, even as I thought of them as foolish and stupid for their naivety for trusting me, I had begun feeling something for them. Something real.” His honesty stunned everyone around the table.

“Well then, dear brother. I guess you need to find a way to fix this.” Satan left it at that, with all meals going cold and no longer touched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Satan being responsible? Obviously, someone has to be.
> 
> Also I'm sorry if there are any errors, I'm tired. T^T


	3. Destructive Tendencies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before reading, please be aware that this chapter could be triggering for anyone with mental health issues. The (kinda sorta) breakdown of the reader is something that had happened to me before, and I wanted to express the pain and discomfort of being in such a situation. If you don't want to possibly be triggered, please feel free to skip this chapter. If not, please enjoy! <3

How long has it been since breakfast? A few minutes? Few hours? You couldn’t tell, having turned your D.D.D. off since the brothers wouldn’t stop blowing your phone up with texts after texts. What part of telling them to fuck off and leave you alone didn’t they understand? How bull-headed these demons were. Thankfully you were able to get a bit of shut eye, instinctively rubbing the crusty buildup within the corners of your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. Gross.

You rolled out of bed, body hitting the wooden floor with a hard thump as a groan left your lips. You didn’t care much for the pain, but it wasn’t the worst you’ve felt. Shakily, you managed to get up off the floor, turning the horrid phone back on. Luckily the chimes of messages stopped, leaving you some peace and solitude.

You tapped the music icon, scrolling through the list of songs you managed to save while here. One piqued your interest, immediately tapping on it and connecting it to your cute little speaker you recently obtained. It was in the shape of a tiny vintage radio from the 1960’s, remembering how you begged Mammon to get it for you. He may have seen adamant about it, but he was really happy that you asked him to get it for you, not anyone else. His expression was the cutest. Plus, it was gold, he couldn’t say no if he wanted to. You wanted something with his signature color, it was a necessity in his eyes.

The song boomed through the room, the vibrations of the melody being felt underneath the pads of your feet. It was an interesting feeling, foreign if anything. The song’s beginning sounded much like a retro game when you’re about to fight an opponent. The rhythm began making you bounce on the balls of your feet. It was a good distraction from the ache of the rest of your body.

“Ah, where are they…” You muttered to yourself, throwing clothes and undergarments all around from within the drawers of your dressers trying to look for the object that popped into your mind.

“Finally!” Pulling out an old Lucky Strike box, you felt some sort of relief. You had stopped this bad habit of smoking a bit before arriving at Devildom, but something itched you to just take one. Relieve yourself, who cares? You died once already, one cigarette won’t kill you before you die by another demon’s hands.

Shoving your hand back into the drawer, you found your handy lighter from the human realm, popping the top of the cigarette box and pulling one out with your teeth. Lighting the end, you took a long inhale in, almost letting your eyes roll to the back of your head with a sense of comfort.

You tossed the open box of Lucky Strike to the side, a few cigarettes scattering on your already clothes infested floor as you did the same with the lighter. That’s definitely some sort of fire hazard. The beat started to pick up, having you bouncing more across your floor with the lit cigarette burning between your lips.

More. You needed something more to make you feel better. Your eyes scan your room, finding a pair of large precision scissors standing with its handle up in a cup filled with pens and highlighters. You were quick and eager to grab at it, yanking it from its holder as the rest of the stationary fell to the floor. Oh well.

Opening its sharp jaws, you pulled at a piece of your knotted and dirty hair, and with no hesitation you snipped it off. The sound was satisfying, being so close to your ear and all. You needed more of it. More.

More snips later and clumped hair littering the floor, you’ve now given yourself an ugly impromptu haircut. You knew Asmodeus would probably have a stroke if he saw you like this now. Lazily tossing the scissors on your bed, you dragged yourself to the makeshift vanity full of cosmetics Asmodeus so kindly gifted you months ago. Mostly name brands as well, only the best as he usually states. You plopped down on to the cushioned backless ottoman and pulled the almost finished cigarette out of your mouth, staring at your pitiful reflection.

What was wrong with you? Was the pain of death not enough? No, you wanted a distraction from the pain caused. Even if that means causing more harm and pain to yourself by your very hands.

Your tongue lolled out of your dry mouth, Beelzebub’s crimson pact mark right smack dab in the middle of the fleshy pink muscle. Can demons feel pain through a pact mark? Let’s put it to a test. You pressed the still lit cigarette to your tongue, twisting it back and forth as tears bubbles at the corners of your eyes. It was a tad painful, but you didn’t dare whimper. You’ve been through worse. This was nothing.

You flicked it aside when you finished, letting it fly to god knows where in your mess of a room. Scoping through your makeup, you grabbed a felt tip eyeliner still barely used. Your hand was too shaky for an accurate look, but that wasn’t going to stop you. You needed to look different. You didn’t want to recognize yourself anymore. You didn’t want to look pitiful.

Pressing the wet tip to the corner of your eye, it surprised you with how cool it was. Slowly dragging it up, you couldn’t help but press a bit. The black liquid bubbled and dropped down your face, the cooling sensation sending a shiver down your back. Before you realized it, the eyeliner dripped into your eye, stinging just a tad before letting it slip down your cheek. You focused your attention back to the untouched eye, doing the same motions as the last. Your eyes watered and mixed with tears and eyeliner, black tears falling. Disgusting. But you didn’t want to wipe it away. You couldn’t care anymore.

Not caring to place the top back on to the eyeliner, you raised from the ottoman. Letting your body take you into movements, you danced to this song. Why? You weren’t happy, the lyrics weren’t cheerful in the least. It was as if sorrow took you by the hands and carried you across your filthy floor, in a dance of dejection. Muffled voices could be heard from outside your door, the music too loud to give you any sense of eavesdropping.

Before you knew it a rush of bodies came in, one grabbing at you and holding you from behind. Another reached for the radio playing the song.

“In my defense, I wasn’t supposed to be around this long..”

The lyric struck a chord within you. Right, you weren’t even supposed to be alive right now. Why aren’t you dead? Why couldn’t you stay dead? Wouldn’t that just be easier for you? For everyone?

A scream left your throat, trying to thrash around the arms that held you. Was this really your voice? It sounded so far away. It sounded so foreign, like an animal in pain. It was pathetic, really.

“Y/n, it’s me. It’s me, please calm down. Please.” A begging voice could be heard behind you, the embrace only getting stronger. It felt suffocating, but simultaneously safe. The music stopped, and loud sobs erupted from your chest. Fat tears spilled down your face that now was dirty with the eyeliner, as the demon behind you’s gloved hands gripped your shoulders protectively as the arms were crossed around your chest. It was Lucifer.

Sobs turned into wails, as 6 pairs of bodies were seen from between your blurry tears. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You’re too tired.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, y/n.” Lucifer’s voice was soft, throaty. He felt hurt and pain radiating from you, even without a pact. The demon only wished he knew what to do for you.

Yeah, you were sorry too. Sorry for being such a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song lyric is from cigarette ahegao by Penelope Scott, I feel like it was the perfect breakdown song. So upbeat, yet the lyrics aren't. This chapter was super heavy on the reader's mind and person, so I promise the brothers and everyone else will be in the next chapters!
> 
> Also an apologizing and begging Lucifer? I needed to add it.


	4. Post Breakdown Clarity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be a little more lighthearted with a certain demon who apologizes and helps.
> 
> Also if you see any spelling or grammatical errors, no you do not. <3 (pls ignore them I'm tired)

The smell of fresh roses with hints of honey filled your senses, your eyes drowsily opening to be greeted by a four post canopy draped with lavender… silk? Satin? Either way, it looked quite expensive. You sat up slowly, flinching as your chest ached a little with every breath you took in. Remembering what happened yesterday, you aren’t surprised. Lucifer held on to you as if you were going to disappear right then and there, the grip quite tight as well. Too tight for a human to handle. Looking to your left, a gaudily shaped golden vanity could be seen, the mirror large enough for you to see yourself well from where you were in the bed. You looked like hell.

“My dear, you’re awake.” A sweet voice called out from past the end of the bed, a familiar strawberry blond demon standing from his hanging chair to be by your side. “Lucifer had Satan use a sleeping spell on you yesterday when you were…” He couldn’t say the rest, the sight too much for him to bear or try to recall. “And because your room was completely ransacked, they brought you to mine. Anyway, how are you feeling now?” His hand reached out but flinched back when getting too close to your face, remembering how you slapped his hand away yesterday. Asmodeus didn’t want to impose on your personal space.

You can sense the demon’s wariness, leaning forward ever so slightly to have your cheek rest in his soft hand. It was a tad cold, nonetheless very comforting. It’s been a while since you’ve had a gentle touch like this.

Asmodeus let his thumb softly rub against your cheek. It was rough, as to be expected though. His eyes were filled to the brim with tears. He caused you pain as well, he wasn’t sinless in this matter. Calling you his dead sister’s name, what was he thinking?

“Asmo, don’t cry. You’re too pretty to cry.” Your voice came out hoarse, almost hushed. Asmodeus bowed his head, feeling the tears drip onto his lap.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I never, ever meant to hurt you. When I called you Lilith’s name, I don’t know what got into me. I guess nostalgia got the best of me, but seeing you so mad at me—at us—brought me back to my senses. And seeing you break yesterday, it was partly caused by me.” His sweet voice wavered in disappointment and pain, hiccuping as tears continued to flow.

Your hand gently cupped the demon’s hand that was resting on your cheek, the other reaching out and resting on Asmodeus’ face. Your thumb wiped away a few stray tears, but it seemed like the gentle physical contact between you two helped stop his whimpers. “I don’t blame you, Lilith was important to you. Yes it hurt, and I’m glad you understand why it hurt me. I accept your apology, Asmo. But you aren’t the cause of my sorrow. Deep down, you know that as well.”

There was a tender silence between you two before you both withdrew your hands, Asmodeus standing up and going to his vanity. “My dear, why don’t we do something about that eyeliner? And while you sit and moisturize a bit, I can fix your hair.”

You reached up and touched your choppy hair, the ends rough and angry with you. You did use household scissors on your hair after all. “Are you sure? And when did you learn how to cut hair?”

Asmodeus faked scoffed, flashing you a cheeky smile afterwards. “As if I’d let anyone mess or even touch this beautiful hair of mine! Now come here, let me take care of you.”

He led you to his grand bathroom, French-styled and almost as gaudy as his bedroom. Purple roses bloomed and hung all over the handles and tub, giving off a soft ambiance against the black and white tiles below your feet. Asmodeus handed you a fluffy white bathroom with matching socks, turning on the bath and waited till the water was warm to plug it and toss in a handful of bath salts. “Here, I’ll be waiting outside for you to finish up. Toss your clothing into the hamper by the tub as well. I’ll make sure those get washed soon.” He motioned to the small black hamper with a manicured nail, ready to turn around before you grabbed on to the corner edge of his shirt.

“W-Wait… Can you help me?” It felt embarrassing to ask, but frankly despite the slumber you were forced under you feel as if you were run over by a semi truck. That’s emotional exhaustion for you.

“Of course! Sit against the edge while I wash your hair.” He rolled up the sleeves to his shirt, careful to make sure no water or soap will get on to it. You didn’t care that you were stripping in front of him, and Asmodeus didn’t seem to mind as well. He knew when to provide lustful commentary, and this wasn’t the time or place for that. Sinking into the warm water once fully unclothed, you pressed your back against the smooth porcelain as the demon began wetting your hair slowly, careful not to spill any on your face. His fingers ran through your wet hair with shampoo and conditioner, the gentle touch and care he was providing helping you relax. You began scrubbing your body with a fresh loofa while he finished up with your hair, making sure to get everywhere needed. You for sure smelled, that’s embarrassing.

Unplugging the tub, he helped you out of it so you wouldn’t fall. Taking a clean fluffy towel, Asmodeus pulled it open and began to dab the water off all over, careful in sensitive places like your back and neck. He didn’t want to cause you to be wary of his touches. Finally dried off, you pulled on the soft and fluffy bathrobe, Asmodeus helping you pull on the matching socks. It felt like you were wearing and walking on clouds.

Exiting the steaming bathroom, Asmodeus was setting up his vanity with a few skincare products, and a pair of hair cutting shears and a brush. “Sit sit, I have everything prepared.” He tapped the vanity seat’s backing, adding a pillow to make you feel more comfortable.

Sitting you down, he immediately got started. From toner to a sheet mask, he made sure to use only the best with you. From what he sees, you really need it. With all the pampering, you didn’t even realize he had finished with your face and started with your hair until you heard the soft and quick snips of the shears.

“Asmo… Belphegor was my lover.” You didn’t know why you blurted that out at that very moment, but the snipping didn’t stop. You trusted Asmodeus, and he deserved to know the truth after everything he’s been doing for you.

The demon hummed softly, focusing on the ends of your hair. “I know, my cute little lamb. All of us know now. Belphegor admitted to it himself after Satan did what he called his deductions. You let it slip out yourself at one point. At breakfast.”

You were far more surprised to hear that Belphegor himself admitted to it, wanting to whip your head around to face Asmodeus but he’s got shears in one hand and a decent grip on your hair in another. “He actually admitted to it?”

Hesitation. Should Asmodeus tell you what exactly he said? It wouldn’t hurt to tell the truth, but seeing how broken you were yesterday, he’s nervous. “...He did. Well, he did say at first he used you for your naivety, but his feelings grew to something more.”

“Honestly, I think when you’re ready, like really ready, you need to speak to Belphegor. Whether one of us is there with you or not, it needs to be done. Not for him, but for your sake and sanity.” His words were firm, but full of love. You know he only wants the best for you, and you give a little noise of acknowledgment.

“Thank you, Asmo. I’m really grateful for you and your support.” You could barely muster it out. For the first time since your death, you felt something more than anger. Something more than sorrow or pity. You felt content. Serene to a degree.

Without you realizing it, a few tears decided to spill free, quickly dabbing them away with the soft sleeves of the robe so Asmodeus’ hard work wouldn’t be for not.

His hand placed itself gently atop your now freshly trimmed hair, giving it a soft ruffle with his fingers. “Now, no more tears, my love. You’re too pretty to cry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asmo is a good boy, let's all agree with that. He really does care for us. From this chapter on, tides will turn, whether for the better or worse.


	5. Mama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one:
> 
> not a single soul:
> 
> me, sleep deprived and delirious: YALL WANNA SEE SOME REAL ANGST????
> 
> I wanted to write this chapter because I don't think canon MC nor the demons really understand the human psyche and how fragile it is, and how badly they fucked up. Especially the timelines.

An array of colorful assorted delicacies danced in your blurry and exhausted vision, this being the third sleepless night in a row after your heart to heart with the Avatar of Lust. The cushioned seat beneath you at least gave you some sort of relief, your eyes straining to focus on the three demons accompanying you.

Lord Diavolo decided it was time to have a talk about your mental health, receiving wind from Lucifer about your little incident the other day. Supposedly RAD had also heard of something happening to the little human, and rumors of their own started to spread like a wildfire.

“How are you feeling today, y/n? Your hair is much shorter than I remember, but it looks quite nice!” Lord Diavolo finally broke the uneasy silence, his butler pouring tea for each of the guests.

“Yeah, Asmo was kind enough to spruce up my lovely trimming. And I’m feeling alive, as alive as a human should feel.” You couldn’t even manage to smirk at your own stupid comment. Earning a scowl from Lucifer who was to your right, you rolled your eyes. “Oh leave me alone, Lucifer. Can’t I humor myself just a tad? I died for Christ’s sake.”

The Avatar of Pride’s eyes flashes a dangerous glimmer, body seething with annoyance. “Firstly, don’t innocently use such a name around demons. It gets us riled up in the worst ways. Secondly, don’t speak so informal to Lord Diavolo. After all this time you’d think you’d know your place by now. Lastly, what you did was foolish. Idiotic. What would have happened if you managed to kill yourself and die again? Then this whole exchange program would be a disaster and tarnish Lord Diavolo’s name. Did you even think of the consequences of your actions?!”

Lucifer’s uncompromising and loud tone caused you to involuntarily flinch, Lord Diavolo reaching out to his friend to try to stop him from saying anything more.

Is this demon fucking stupid? You died, DIED, and all he cares about is the idiotic exchange program? Oh boo boo, tarnished reputation be damned! All the demons in Devildom would probably forgive him in 200 years flat. His harsh words now didn’t match with his actions the day of your breakdown, did he hit his head? Is he acting like he suddenly doesn’t care? Good God, for a demon who lived so long you’d think he would’ve gained some sort of useful wisdom. Like controlling his pride.

Your hand slammed down on to the coffee table before you, causing teacups to clink against their assigned plate and a few soft homemade desserts crumbled a bit with the force. Lucifer gawked, astounded by your bravery and possibly your stupidity. You didn’t care anymore, and surely they don’t either.

“Lucifer, where I’m from when a human dies, we stay dead. Do you know what it’s like to one minute feel your bones snap like brittle twigs, and the pain to seer and brand into your mind, only for the next to feel yourself leave your own body? Then all of a sudden you get contacted by yourdead ancestor who manages to also be the family you’re staying with’s sister, get brought back to life by some sort of fucking Time Lord, then explain and fix a disfuntional family despite being in the presence of your own killer and lover? All because this one sibling fell in love with a human?”

Your extreme monologue left the three demons in silence, contemplating on even commenting. No, none of them could imagine the pain or the mental anguish you went through. It was inhumane. It was cruel, even to them.

“Then everyone is just expecting me to get over my own death like it’s a normal fucking incident. For you demons it would probably be easy, you’ve never understood the reality of humanity! What would take you hundreds to thousands of years to get over will force me to get over it in months to a year, because our lives are that short.”

Lucifer felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of your trembling voice. You were trying to be strong, trying not to show any weakness, when all you are is weak. So weak. So tired. You wondered if staying dead would’ve felt better than this.

“I understand what you’re saying, y/n. But, with my magic, I managed to help you get a second start–”

“Bullshit you freaky time jumper!” You interrupted the scaly butler, who was utterly surprised not in just your choice of words but your sudden intrusion.

“This isn’t a second start. This is a continuation of the first life. Same me, different shell, different dimension. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Barbatos took a second to think before responding. “Somewhat. Same you, different shell, partially merged dimension.”

His words make you think. “Partially?”

“Some people in the dimension you died in will forget you even existed. Some will remember, but their memories will twist and mend to their need, causing your disappearance to not question them too much.”

That statement hit you hard in the gut, all air expunging itself out your lungs in a sudden and forceful sigh. The stillness between everyone was heavy, as the rusted and foggy gears began to turn in your head.

“Mama.”

The word caused Lucifer to cock a brow, and Lord Diavolo to look almost pitifully at you. Did he feel sorry for you? Did he feel any sort of empathy? Could demons even feel empathy anymore with how long they’ve been ignorant to humanity?

“My mama from that dimension, from what of the options was chosen for her?” Your red, bloodshot eyes stared down the butler, you could only meet your gaze with a stoic expression. He didn’t answer, causing you to grit your teeth harshly in annoyance.

“Fucking tell me, you piece of shit. I deserve to know after all I’ve been through. After all, I’m confident enough to now realize you must’ve foreseen my death as well.” Your words came as a shock to the Lord and Lucifer, turning their heads to Barbatos whose eyes still never left you.

“I truly didn’t know about your death until the last minute, but I had an inclination of what could’ve happened before letting you go to the past. For that, I am deeply sorry. As for your mother, her memories are intact. She seemed to be one of only a few who have perfectly untouched memories of you. The dimension let her keep her memories, and I cannot question why nor do I have an answer to why.”

Your poor mom, she must be suffering. She’ll never know that you won’t be coming back to her. She won’t ever know how much you loved her, and that you still love her. She will forever wonder where her child is, and will probably die with distress of never being reunited with you.

Why you? Why did you also have to suffer from the consequences of another’s twisted judgment and actions? From another person’s greediness? It wasn’t fair. Shouldn’t they suffer too? Humans always said an eye for an eye, correct? Why not literally?

Your body moved faster than your brain, grabbing a teacup full of hot Earl Grey before aiming it right at the standing Barbatos. The cup barely missed his head, passing his left ear and shattering on the wall behind him. The dark tea dripped down the wallpaper, what hideous wallpaper. You were doing Lord Diavolo a favor with that.

You couldn’t even realize your own screams and actions until Lord Diavolo himself had to pry you off his butler, a chintzy looking dessert fork resting comfortably within Barbatos’ eye socket, dark blood seeping out. You managed to hop over the dessert cluttered coffee table, grab a fork, and jam it right into his eye before anyone could even react. The power of human adrenaline is a scary thing, not even the most powerful demons in all of Devildom could have foreseen that.

“Barbatos, why didn’t you move?!” A panic riddled Lucifer yelled out, immediately going to the demon who yanked the fork out and placed it aside. The wound seemed to heal almost immediately after the object was removed. Fucking demons, way to rub salt in your ever gaping wound of mortality. Lord Diavolo’s large arms seemed to keep you caged within his hold, not too harsh but tight enough to keep you still. Even so, you thrashed against him like some sort of feral animal, screaming bloody murder until your throat was raw.

“I needed to let them do that. In all the other related dimensions I witnessed, if I didn’t, they would’ve inflicted more pain upon themselves. The fork would’ve ended up in their eye instead. This is my punishment as well, for not protecting their humanity as needed. I lapsed in judgement, and it caused them and is still causing them unbearable torment. Hopefully this is the start of all of us accounting our faults.” Using a handkerchief, he wiped away and blood that was left on his face, looking at you with a more gentle expression.

“I am truly sorry, y/n.” We have failed you. We have all failed you.” The Demon Lord’s voice came out small, weak, but kind. Turning you around, he embraced you in the softest of hugs, a tear rolling down his own face as your wails only grew louder. Your weakening mortality is giving life to the unaware immortal demons, which is exactly what Lord Diavolo had wanted: understandment between realms. But at the expense of your own health, he no longer desired it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About damn time these damn demons get told off, am I right? Also, time lord over here definitely deserved the fork in the eye.
> 
> This chapter is so long too forgive me aaaaaaaa


	6. Quick, The Dreaded Family Meeting is Now In Session!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day everyone! Enjoy this not so angsty chapter. Things are finally starting to look up for MC.
> 
> This chapter isn't as long as I'd like it, and please excuse any typos.

“So, Lucifer, will you finally tell us why we are all here? Or are you just going to have us sit in utter silence? I have things to do.” The blond demon grumbled in annoyance which caused an involuntary eye twitch from the first born. All seven brothers sat in the living room, the wood in the fireplace crackling noisily as embers floated aimlessly within the brick confines.

You were squished between Asmodeus and Mammon, the latter having an arm around your shoulder as the younger brother had an arm looped around your waist. Ever since you decided to go feral and skewer the Demon Lord’s butler’s eye, the two have been keeping a close eye on you. Their worry for your health was transparent, more so than the other brothers. Plus, by Lucifer’s orders, you were not to be left alone or to go out.

“Oh, and what is so important that you’re in a rush to leave this meeting?” Lucifer’s voice lowered into a domineering and stern huff, impatience boiling within his chest. Arms crossed over his chest, his gloved hands gripping harshly at his biceps. It made the leather twist and squeak from the actions.

“If you hadn’t noticed, y/n isn’t in the best mindset. I mean for fuck’s sake, she attacked Barbatos, the most level headed demon out of all of us. She needs help. Help we cannot provide for her. I’ve been looking into different psychiatrists here in Devildom, one who could aid her and provide some sort of relief that’s going on inside their head.” Satan spat back, their little staring contest shutting everyone up. It’s as if they were fighting for dominance over this topic, which caused you to unconsciously roll your eyes at the two. Father like son, I guess.

“My poor dear has barely been eating as well! Look at how thin they’ve got!” Asmodeus’ high pitched voice butted in, taking his free hand and motioning to your body. He wasn’t wrong. You’ve definitely lost a few pounds from skipping meals, and your stomach finally stopped growling and begging for food. Even if you did eat, it would just come back up, and your throat was exhausted from being assaulted with stomach acid. Mammon decided to pipe into the conversation, your eyes sliding off the now chattering four brothers as you looked at the rest.

Leviathan, Belphegor, and Beelzebub sat on the opposite couch facing you, Leviathan hiding behind his portable gaming console as the conversation in the living room only got louder and rowdier. He didn’t even look like he wanted to be there. You focused your attention back on the twins, your ex-lover resting his head against Beelzebub’s shoulder as his eyes bore into the ground. Beelzebub was snacking on a bag of Hell’s hottest spicy chips, munching away so obnoxiously that it could rival that of the arguments that were filling the room. The brothers were talking as if you weren’t there. As if you didn’t even have a voice for yourself. Which was true unfortunately, after what you did to Barbatos no one really listened to anything you said you wanted or needed. They just did what they thought was best for you and went with it. It was getting annoying, but it’s the price you have to pay for going savage.

“Tell me, how does your tongue feel?” You stared right at the sixth born, all voices coming to a hush as they watched you stare at Beelzebub. It made the big demon clear his throat uncomfortably, shifting a tad which bumped his twin’s head off his shoulder. “I-It still hurts. Did you know that would happen? Is that why you did it?” His voice was soft, nervous. You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle.

“Yeah, you can say that. Sorry, I wanted to see if causing pain on a pact mark would actually inflict pain on the other. I guess it does. Interesting. I expected you to be in pain, my tongue still hurts too.” Your voice trailed off into nothingness, the brothers looking at you before turning to Beelzebub. The orange haired demon nodded sheepishly, his munching stopping before looking at the ground just like his twin.

“If you want to hurt someone, don’t do it to Beelzebub, or anyone else, or even yourself. Do it to me, I deserve it.” A sleepy voice chimed in, Belphegor now lifting his head to face you. His expression was pained, pitiful if anything. It isn’t like you wanted to hurt the gentle giant, he didn’t do anything to you. You were just bitter. Bitter at his twin and bitter at your death.

“Yer damn right you deserve it!” Mammon barked towards his younger brother, involuntarily slipping into his demon form. A low growl could be heard rumbling within his chest. It was harsh on the ears, signaling how pissed off he was. “If I could I’d tear ya limb from limb–”

“Mammon!” Lucifer roared out, now standing from his sitting position. He was also on the verge of transforming, the tension between the brothers so thick you could cut it with a knife. “He’s still your brother.”

“Brother?! Lucifer, he killed y/n! Brother or not, he hurt the one person who treated us for who we are, not just our sins. They didn’t care how many times we threatened their life, or how many times they were pushed around by us, they cared!” Mammon was holding back a sob, Asmodeus furrowing his brows at the sight before reaching back and rubbing soothing circles on to his older brother’s back. He understands Mammon’s pain all too well, and if not for that day where he had a heart to heart with you, he’d still be suffering silently. It was because you forgave him could he be here next to you now.

Leviathan pressed his body even farther into the couch’s soft cushions, wanting it to swallow him up whole. The screen of his console flashed “Game Over,” the game left forgotten as the conversation only grew in hostility. He placed it to the side, tugging his jacket closer to his thin frame as a barrier of protection. He felt like a coward, not able to say anything or speak up on behalf of you. Your eyes met his: glassy, empty, everything that you weren’t before. It struck a chord in him, forcing his body to sit up straight and look at Satan who was already in his demon form baring fangs at Lucifer.

“I-I’ll help.” His voice was meek, shaky, nonetheless it caught everyone’s attention. When he realized no one was speaking, Leviathan decided to talk once again. “I’ll help find y/n a good psychiatrist, and if she’s prescribed medication I’ll make sure she takes it. I’ll help take her to and from appointments. Satan, you don’t mind, do you?” The blond shook his head, surprised by his usually quiet older brother finally adding his two cents to the conversation.

“But…”

“But?” Lucifer crooked a brow to the third eldest, the otaku gripping his clammy hands together in nervousness.

“I think Belphegor should go see one as well. It can help.”

“...I think that’s a good idea.” Beelzebub was the first to comment on it, making his twin’s eyes widen in disbelief. “I’m sorry Belphie. I love you, but you need to face what you’ve done to them. To us. You aren’t bad, but this situation is sticky, and it leaves no room flexibility.”

All the rest, including you, were dumbfounded by Beelzebub’s honesty. Ever since Belphegor came back all he’s done was coddle him, but to see him finally stepping up and siding with sense was a step in the right direction.

“Okay. I’ll do it. Though, y/n, once we start this, do you think we can talk alone? And figure this out ourselves?” His voice was low, a hint of sadness was visible in his tone. You said nothing to him, his eyes finally meeting yours. Deep down, you and him both knew the answer to that, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, receiving help for mental health is never shameful. <3


End file.
